I’m
Ok




I’m
Ok



I’m
Ok

I
Am
Not
Ok

It’s ok
Not to be
Ok

Some days are just hard
Some weeks are long
It’s how you pick yourself back up And move along...

I am
Not
Ok

I
Will
Be
Ok

One day.

.Take Me Away.
D R Y   M Y   E Y E S
.Bring the color back to my skies.

Am I kind?
Am I good?
Am I all that you think?
Or am I just a curse
Such an awful little jinx
Chewing up your soul
Leaving you broken links
Rueing the day you choose me
Drawing you to the brinks
Cursing my name under breath
Sighs in anger and defeat
Growing tired of this self-hatred
Sipping on poison-filled sweets
So silence the roaring cries
Of this good person that you seek
As they are nowhere to be found
I am but another selfish freak

When a poet loves an artist
something
Oh, something
Clicks
In a way where
her art
becomes
his word.
his words spent
trying
Oh, trying
To capture the beauty that is her work
Like the tide to the shore
He'll throw himself into attempts
Only to find
he can only bring with him
The surface.

how does one love a poet?
between the lines of their spoken words
and their haiku's.
a jumbled nonsense to an untrained ear
but a masterpiece
to the ones who take your poems
the ones they've studied
and they dissected
because they find them*  almost
as beautiful
as the way your soul shines
when you coin a poem
about the one who
coins their poems
about you.

*the delicate intertwining process of loving a poet.